It must have been a dream,
when for a hastened moment,
I glimpsed at innately grandeur like awe handsomeness,
Enthralled, tossed to a delirium of perpetual bliss clasped in definite absolutism
A moment devoid of space, time, motion and objects,
Was this a projection of my own selfish desires or of my reservations?
A creation of my subjective mind.
Moments passed, the memory of his encounter reflecting from a distance,
like a dream preceded by the relative daily chaos.
How do I make contact with a dream unspecified?
What his name?
What his voice like, his touch, his smile, his gaze?,
His existence seeming illusory, but with a favour to be by his side,
And the dream like state preceded, void of all that bases realism,
His name, his name, K…………
His voice, the sound of reverberating divine reveling ghostly soliloquies
Draped in carnations,
His touch, the warmth of a savored memory in the mind of a soul passing on the next life,
His smile, Gods relish,
His gaze, the adoration of the heavens upon the earth life protractions.
Maybe it’s all in my head. No.
He’s beyond the limits of my exaggerations,
Maybe he is a dream, an illusion, a fabricated idea. But so
How come his reservations and trepidations are so real?
So visible is the mask he tries to cover them by.
Sri Nimbraka Charya articulated it best when he said……
The creation of a dream is all the doing of the cosmic soul.
As it is strange and illusive character, being not entirely true nor entirely untrue and as such, it cannot be done by the individual soul for one’s own essential characteristics including creative power, in the present state of bondage, are as yet unrealized, limited and conditioned. One’s inherent powers cannot have full play and therefore it is not possible to create the strange thing that is a dream (DREAM.